


A Matter of Perception

by In_Factorem_Verba



Series: Glimpses [2]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Almost death, M/M, Nightmares, fight to the death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Factorem_Verba/pseuds/In_Factorem_Verba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The princes fight for show. What happens when things go too far?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Perception

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt words:  
> Noun: Warm  
> Verb: Metal  
> Adjective: Crying

The streets of the golden city were practically barren with hundreds gathered, not in a bustle at the markets, but in the tiers of the palace’s amphitheater. This day marked the final period of combat to be held in Asgard. Many men and women had come to prove themselves against their fellow people and a select brave few dared to challenge the elite Einherjar guard. Soon the final match of the year would begin between two of Asgard’s royals.

Ceaseless cheers resonated within the halls beneath the arena. Thor couldn’t help the cocky smile that spread across his face as he readied himself for his upcoming competition. Mjölnir rested at his feet as he finished polishing his sword. The thunderer stood from the bench, pausing to admire his handy-work before heading to get equipped for the fight.

Armor in all colors and an assortment of weaponry shimmered atop a large expanse of table and thick cuts of protective leathers filled the rest. The blond strode along the table, examining each item with deep contemplation before frowning in disapproval and moving to a separate table adorned with his usual garments. Reaching between his shoulders he grabbed his shirt and tugged it up over his head; he would only be successful today if he dressed lightly.

After pulling on his boots and slipping on his strongest vambraces, Thor summoned Mjölnir into his grasp. He was ready for this battle to begin.

 

Loki leaned to his side until his fingers touched the floor, his other arm extended above his head. The mage righted himself, then bending far enough forward that he flattened his palms against the ground before he slowly stood upright; letting out a deep sigh as he felt his muscles stretching out and relaxing. With a roll of his bare shoulders he was finished warming up for the match.

He glanced at the table of carefully laid out tools and outfits and rolled his eyes. Most of the weapons were bulky and not easily wielded and Loki preferred something lesser in size that would allow speed. He furrowed his brow and before turning to the table with his own effects, he noticed a group of throwing knives, smaller and thinner than his own and grabbed them. From his table the trickster took only his usual golden vambraces and a small curved blade dagger.

After inspecting then putting on his vambraces, he meticulously checked all laces and possible flaws that could cause him to fail. Once he was satisfied, Loki pulled his hair back into a tie to keep it out of his face and slipped the knives into one boot and his dagger into the other, keeping them concealed.

Squaring his shoulders and facing the entrance he was ready for this battle to begin.

 

A horn wailed signaling for the opponents to emerge; the crowd let out a deafening whooping cheer.

From opposite ends the two men entered the stadium; Loki greeting onlookers with cordial smiles and waves, and Thor proudly raising his hammer to the crowd, a cocky grin stuck across his face. The two came to a stop at the center, bowing politely to one another before circling counter-clockwise and stopping again they each took a defensive stance. The larger man winked flirtatiously, getting only an unimpressed eye roll in response from his opponent.

This match would be very different from the rest. Not only were two members of the royal family fighting, but this skirmish would have no rules to confine them, and only a few methods of winning.

Falling to the ground ends the round but another will begin until one fighter surrenders or exhaustion kicks in. The one with the most rounds won by sun down will become champion; unless they forfeit, then the other wins by default.

The crowd grew quiet, watching intensely as the two walked to a structure covered with multiples of every weapon they had seen in their tents. Each fighter was given the option to take one item before the battle; Thor chose to keep Mjölnir, and Loki picked up a long dagger.

Once they were back at the center, another even louder horn sounded and the battle had begun.

Thor held his ground, wearily watched Loki, knowing all too well how quickly he can strike. Loki began to circle around Thor, forcing him to turn as well. The blond locked onto unwavering green eyes that seemed void of all emotion; piercing into his very being. He broke away, for just a second, trying to get his bearings.

Before Thor could set his eyes back on Loki, he felt a hit. The slighter man had driven his elbow directly into Thor’s abdomen, then rolled Thor over his shoulder, letting him drop to the ground. The next thing that he saw was Loki standing above him, a smirk tugging at his lips. He could tell this competition wasn’t going to be easy by any means.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to play.” Thor snarled through gritted teeth.

Standing Thor wasted no time; he pulled his arm back, readied for a direct hit to Loki’s chest. Taking the swing the hammer struck against nothing and green mist evaporated the image. The thunderer let out a deep guttural growl and looked over his shoulder.

Slender fingers wriggled, “You missed.” Loki mocked.

“I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.” Thor remarked, turning on his heel and taking another swing.

The mage leapt back attempting to dodge the might of the hammer but the dense metal connected with his side, tossing him to the ground.

Loki quickly scrambled back to his feet, “That’s more like it.” He goaded in a feral tone, lurching forward at Thor.

The onlookers had become quieter, however still applauding and gasping in response to each successful or futile attack. The fight continued on like this for much over an hour. Each man knew how the other strategized, their weaknesses, and their styles of confrontation; making it all the harder for them to break out of their endless tie.

The two now stood slightly less proud as the heat of the high-noon sun, and the uninterrupted combat weighed down on them. Both the men possessed minor injuries, small cuts and bruises that would easily heal in days.

Thor breathed heavily, his hands braced on his knees, still recovering from Loki’s last assault. Beads of sweat and blood glimmered on his tanned back as the blond bent to pick up his fallen weapon. The trickster turned to reposition himself; Thor saw his opportunity and charged, realizing too late that this was Loki’s plan.

The sword he held was caught between a dagger and Loki’s vambrace, only to be shunted away and clatter to the ground behind them. A wicked grin widened the brunet’s mouth and he began a rapid onslaught of strikes. The sharp ring of metal on metal echoed with every hit as Thor raised his vambraces to block.

Ducking down and crouching into a spin, Loki cut into Thor’s thigh, causing him to falter; quickly standing and planting a high kick at Thor’s chest.

The battle continued for what seemed like forever, the hot sun staying stubbornly high in the sky.

Metal collided with metal and fists against skin.

The battle was quickly escalating from simple fun competition into something much more instinctual; with neither man willing to yield to the other.

Loki pulled himself up lazily and glared as he thumbed a trail of blood off his bottom lip. Thor quickly turned, yanking a spear out of the assorted rack of weaponry. Loki stood seemingly patiently in the same place, waiting for Thor to approach. He wasn’t going to fall for this same trick so soon. Keeping his back to the rack, Thor walked along the stand pausing for a moment to reach behind himself for another weapon.

A few commoners shouted in the otherwise hushed assembly, catching Loki’s attention. He twisted back to look at the section, exposing his back to Thor.

The blond readied a dagger in his grasp, and gave the spear a hard toss; prepared for the real Loki to come from around the corner and attack.

A broken cry shattered the silence and time came to a stand-still with the event unfolding before his very eyes.

The javelin sank deep into flesh, with no green mist appearing to dissipate the illusion.

Bellowing a pained ‘ **no** ’ Thor rushed to Loki’s side.

The mage looked to Thor with wide frightened eyes, his breathing reduced to shallow gasps; Loki glanced down, slowly wrapping his fingers around the shaft and pulling the bloodied blade from his stomach before dropping it. The crowd roared into panic as his body began to shake, and his knees buckled under him.

The thunderer caught Loki, supporting his weight. Thor knelt after cautiously lowering them to the ground. Stammering and repressing his tears, his mouth seemingly unable to make any sound; all he could do was shake his head as he watched the blood pool from Loki’s parted lips and the life slowly slipping from his body. A slender and trembling hand gripped at Thor's arm.

A rough calloused thumb brushed tenderly over Loki’s cheek as he pulled him closer, moving his hand to press on the wound; the blond began to rock as he clung tightly to him, chocking back sobs.

Hot tears welled up stinging at his eyes before streaming down his cheeks, leaving streaks on his otherwise dirty face.

“I’m sorry.” Loki stammered, coughing a few last times as he strained for breath. Thor curled into the smaller body, dropping his forehead to Loki’s chest. The quivering and wheezing faded out, all life fully drained from him and his body went limp in Thor’s arms.

The blond shot upright, an abrupt shout finally escaping from his throat and he gasped for air. His heart was pounding and his head ached. The ringing in his ears began to decrease.

Strands of blond hair clung to his damp face. Droplets of sweat and tears rolled down his face into his beard; he brought up a shaky hand to wipe over his mouth. Yanking the sheets off, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his feet on the cold floor.

“Thor?” A soft concerned voice called out into the dark room. “Thor, are you alright?”

“Fine. I’m fine” The blond insisted, still trying to catch his breath.

“That is a lie. You’re shaking… and crying.” The haze of sleep was entirely gone from the voice.

The warrior felt the warmth of a hand nearing his back and he pushed himself away from the bed, unable to accept the affection and walked across the room; stopping by the doors to the balcony Thor Stooping leaned his palms against the edges of the washbowl. Stooping forward and cupping his hands, he splashed water on his face before sighing heavily and running his fingers through his hair.

“Loki, I said I’m fine. It was just …a nightmare.” Thor hesitated, toweling off his face.

The mage quirked an eyebrow and stood from the bed and began cautiously moving towards Thor; first pausing to admire his nude body in the pale moonlight.

“I don’t believe you that you’re fine.” Loki stood behind him, extending his arms out and curling them around Thor’s muscular torso; resting his chin between his shoulder blades. “However I will let it alone.”

“Good, I don’t want to think about it any longer.” Thor uttered with a sad grimace, encompassing Loki’s hands in his own.

“I heard you crying out for me, you kept saying no. Whatever was in your dream wasn’t real Thor. I'm right here, safe and sound with you. I promise.” Loki consoled, pressing a gentle kiss to Thor’s spine and gradually rocking the two of them. “You have nothing to fear.”


End file.
